Metamorphosis
by craftydevil
Summary: The sad beginnings of a poor corpse like boy. He is visited by a dark beast, who wants him to obey. What will the boy choose? Light or dark? Good or evil? Eventually he meets an angel named Christine. What will he do then? Read on to find out! One-shot short story. E/C. Enjoy!


**A sad tale about a little boy with a corpse-like face and the forces of good and evil that battle to hold him throughout his life.**

I curled on the dirt floor, grateful that they were leaving me alone for now. I didn't know why my mother had sold me to these awful people. Wasn't I good? I tried to be good and obey all her commands, but she still hated me. She still sold me away like I meant nothing to her. Tears were threatening to spill, down inside my mask, but I heard movement in the dark outside my cage and quickly quelled them.

"What will we do with the bugger?"

"His voice is very strange."

"Let's hear it then."

I was poked with a long stick and commanded to speak. I stayed mute in rebellion and the stick was shoved into my ribs until I cried out in defense. "Please stop, that hurts!"

"I see what you mean..." The deep voice was pondering my existence and I tried to disappear into the dirt below me. "Come closer to me, little boy."

The stick hurt a great deal, so I stood on wobbly, malnourished legs and shuffled to the edge of the cage. A meaty hand reached through and grabbed my dirty tunic. The mask was stripped from my face and I cowered, waiting for the blow that always followed the revelation of my visage.

No strike came, but I didn't want to open my eyes anyway.

"Amazing...it actually looks like a corpse." The deep voice sounded appreciative and I allowed myself to peek at this man. He was sweaty and fierce looking and huge. I trembled at how tiny I was compared to him and he noticed my fear. "Do not be scared, little devil. I am your savior."

In a strange way, the man was right. He saved me from living with my terrible mother, who hated me. He fed me and taught me how to entertain crowds of people with my voice. I still had to live in this cage, like some kind of animal, but I could not complain about it when living at home was far worse. I was still muscled around, slapped for asking an impertinent question. But I was never beaten for my face, only exploited.

The crowds of strangers would pile into the space around my cage and wait breathlessly for me to move. Once I stood and they gawked at my scrawny frame I would make a flower appear out of thin air. I would wave the flower about and then bend over and dig a small hole in the middle of my dirt floor. The flower was then planted in the ground, where it would grow taller and taller until it began to outgrow itself and it shriveled and coiled into a small pile of dried petals and leaves. After hunching down to gather them, I would blow on the dried bits to make them fly out into the audience. People often screamed if the petals touched them.

Then I would remove my mask and sing.

Silence was always my applause. No one clapped for the Singing Corpse.

Days turned to weeks, and the weather changed. My nights in the cage became a cacophony of my teeth chattering together. The useless rags that covered my body were no help to stave off the cold and I finally gained the courage to ask for a blanket.

I was beaten for my insolence.

I began to see my role here in the gypsy camp as much a nightmare as my previous existence. Would no one just leave me be? Did I not have the right to live freely as others? Was I truly a devil? I didn't feel like one.

The nights became colder and colder until one morning I was so stiff with cold that I could not stand up.

I was beaten for my weakness.

I was growing weary of the gypsies and their constant threats. I brought in too much money for them to actually damage me and I began to grow bold in my defiance.

I was beaten for my strength.

One afternoon, crowds of people piled around my cage and I stared at a small beetle that was sharing the cage with me. I was supposed to start my act but I hadn't been fed in a few days now, as payment for my bad behavior, so I had little energy to sing and perform. I was also very cold and my fingers and toes were completely numb. I much preferred to watch the small black beetle scuttle back and forth. He'd dug a tiny burrow in the soil and was bringing little pieces of grass and hay to line it with. I dreamed that I could do the same and a smile curled my mouth as I watched my little friend work.

I was oblivious to my cage door opening.

I was hauled up by my rags, which tore apart, and caused me to fall to the ground hard. The impact with the earth suddenly knocked me out of my trance and I could hear the people jeering around me.

"Sing Corpse!"

"Let's see the face of death!"

The gypsy picked me up by my arms and twisted them viciously. "Best you start singing or you'll be in a world of pain." His breath reeked of meat and my stomach growled with jealousy. He dropped me on my backside and I sat there like a wooden boy.

My little beetle friend had managed to find a tiny piece of stale bread and I wondered if he would find me one too. The beetle stopped and seemed to be holding out the bread in an offering towards me and a smile crawled over my face. When had anything made me smile so often?

"Thank you," I whispered to him and was lifted off the ground.

"Who you thanking, worm?"

"Not a worm, a beetle."

The gypsy looked down. "This one?" He lifted his foot and easily crushed the little critter. I felt a sharp pain for my little comrade and then I was filled with anger. I knew I was malnourished and half frozen, but for some reason, the anger made me feel stronger then I'd ever felt before.

The gypsy deposited me back on the dirt with a snarl to sing and then he turned his back on me. The last mistake he ever made.

I pounced on his back with an agility that I didn't know I possessed and wrapped my arms around his neck with an unholy strength.

"You killed my beetle friend." I rasped in his ear, with a malice filled voice. He clawed at my arms, tearing the skin, as I choked him to death. It was only fair that he die since he killed an innocent beetle. His struggles eventually slowed and he fell to his knees. I felt a rush of satisfaction as he slumped to the ground, dead.

I stood and brushed off my pants and looked up into the startled and frightened faces of the audience. With a quick glance I saw that my cage was open and it was only paying customers around the bars. If I was quick I could escape this hell and be free. I worried briefly that I wasn't strong enough to escape, but that inhuman strength was still flowing through me. I had the power to do anything.

I slowly lifted off my mask and tossed it on the ground as the crowd collectively gasped.

"Which of us is the corpse now?" I bowed cheekily and then sprinted out the cage and into the night.

The woods were all dark as I ran. I was worried this strange power would leave me just as abruptly as it came, and I would be left weak and helpless, too close to the gypsy camp. To make sure I was not, I ran and ran and ran until I could not breathe anymore and even then, I ran some more.

When I was close to falling over I hid at the base of a large tree, half buried by roots, and covered myself with fallen leaves. I was wheezing loudly but the leaves were warm and I soon fell fast asleep.

I could hear voices. People were yelling, crying. They were trying to find me, coax me somewhere, but I was too exhausted to follow where they beckoned. I lay perfectly still as the voices curled in my ear, urging me onward...

The morning sun woke me as it tickled my eyelids and I sat up to survey my surroundings. I was in a deeply wooded area, the sun only cutting through the treetops in a few places as it danced over the forest floor. I stretched my bony limbs and brushed off the crumbled leaves. I would need to find myself clothing and food, and I cursed myself for tossing aside my mask. It was the only steady thing in my life since the day of my birth. A basic, woven mask to cover my grotesque inhuman face.

I began walking on legs that were stiff and sore. I was not afraid of the forest around me, or worried of the gypsies finding me, and after stretching my free limbs around for a bit, I hummed to myself as I walked. I felt proud for escaping from everyone, now I would just have to stay away from people as much as possible. I escaped from my life as a circus freak and now I would hold my own destiny, no matter the face I was born with. If I could make a clever pretend face to wear, surely people would accept me.

I walked all day and as the sun began to fall, I began to worry. I did not see anything that I could eat and the only thing in my stomach was the water from a small stream I'd come across. I would have to spend another night in the woods, which did not bother me too much, but my lack of clothing and nourishment was making my small skinny frame quake with weariness, as the sun dipped low and I was cast into dusk.

The woods seemed more foreboding in this dim light and I found myself looking around even more than I had all day. I heard a sudden movement beside me and broke into a run. There could be hungry animals in the woods.

I ran shakily for a few minutes while I heard rustling around me. Fear was crawling up from my belly, making me feel very ill. My heart galloped along, trying to burst from my chest and free itself from being scared. Something black jumped into my vision and I leapt aside only to find nothing there. I slowly picked myself up, feeling the fatigue in my limbs from my short run. I needed food. I was beginning to hallucinate.

I stumbled a few more feet and suddenly saw some light through the trees. I walked straight for it, like a moth drawn to flame, and then hid in the brush at the outskirts of a farm. There were a few animals roaming about and I watched a small goat chewing the grass slowly.

Maybe I could eat grass too. My eyes slid to the animal. Or maybe I could catch that goat...

The door at the back of the house suddenly opened and light blazed into the dark before the door was slammed shut.

"Argh! This farm! It's no fair that I have chores!" A girl with braided hair, marched out into the yard and began tugging on the animals. "Get into the barn you lazy good for nothings..." She was growling at the animals as she shut them away for the night and I saw my chance of food dwindling. The girl was tall and certainly older than I. I thought about attacking her to steal her thick looking, hooded cloak, but I could never over power her. Instead I just watched her as she performed her chores, grumbling and pointing fingers the entire time.

After she was done she laid out on the grass and heaved a tremendous sigh. "Some day..." She sounded wistful and sad, and I moved to keep her in my line of vision. Maybe if she fell asleep I could steal the cloak. Or maybe if I jumped on her now I would have a better chance. Maybe there would be an apple in the pocket of her cloak, or a chunk of bread...my vision blurred as I dreamed of how I could get what I needed from her.

"Who's there?" She was moving towards my hiding spot and my heart sped in panic. I stumbled backwards, making a huge rustling noise and scrambled to my feet as she stood at the edge of the brush. "My father has a gun. You won't steal our animals."

"I won't steal from you." I promised quickly so she wouldn't run to get her father. I wasn't sure I could outrun anything at the moment. I was dizzy and the ground seemed to be moving underneath me.

She was peering into the woods, trying to see me and I turned my face away, not wanting to scare her, and wrapped my arms around my bare torso. "I'm sorry for hiding here. I was looking for food."

"Come here, boy," she reached out for me. "Where's your shirt? Or shoes?"

"I...don't have any."

"Are you an orphan?" Orphan meant no parents...

"Yes." I was swaying and tried to take a few steps back from her. She would see my face...

"Stay here. You look half starved! I'll get you some milk and bread. Don't move. I'll be right back." She turned and ran to the house and I sat hard on my backside, unable to turn away. Food...she was bringing me food...

When the door opened again, I saw that her hair was bright yellow, like the sun. She came straight into the woods and I huddled on the ground covering my skull-like face.

"Don't look at me!" I trembled that she would scream and her father would come, with his gun.

"Alright, I won't, but I brought you something to eat. You look like you haven't eaten in days. Are you alright? You must be freezing!" She sounded so sweet and nice, I peeked at her from between my fingers. Her face was shadowed but I could tell she was watching me with concern.

"I said don't look at me." I sounded much firmer then I felt and she huffed and turned sideways.

"Fine," she crossed her arms. "That's gratitude for you. I bring you milk and the last of our pie and you won't even let me look at you."

"If you look, you will wish you hadn't." I still didn't move because I didn't trust her, though the pie smelled fabulous and my mouth was watering already.

"Are you deformed?" She sounded curious.

"Yes." I left it at that.

She sat down, still turned sideways. "Go ahead and eat, little boy, you look too thin to be alive."

I crawled the two steps to the bottle of milk and plate with pie, with my eyes glued to her. She didn't turn and I scurried back into the deeper shadows with my dinner.

I looked down at the plate with an overflowing gratitude. What a blessing food was!

I ate a few mouthfuls without even tasting it and gulped half the milk. My stomach lurched to have food suddenly present and I put the plate down. I should take my time.

As I schooled my stomach to calm itself and accept the offering, the girl gathered her legs to her chest and sighed.

"My name is Muriel, what's your name?"

I didn't have a name. My mother called me monster and the gypsies called me corpse, but I didn't want to tell kind Muriel that I had no Christian name. I picked one for myself.

"Erik." I took another mouthful of my dinner. I'd always liked the name after hearing a frantic mother calling for her son. She sounded so desperate, so despairing, as she shouted his name and pushed through the crowd of people around my cage. Then, the miracle. She found him and scooped him up.

"Erik, my darling child, oh, how I love you, Erik! You frightened poor mommy, Erik, yes you did. I was so scared that someone took my little Erik away from me..." the lady had gushed love and joy at her tiny boy, and I listened and imagined it was me.

"That's a nice name," Muriel propped her chin on her knees. "You have a pretty voice, Erik. Do you like to sing?"

Shame flared over me. "Sometimes I like it."

"I love to sing. Someday I'll get off this stupid farm and be a star on the great stages of Paris. Would you like me to sing for you while you eat?"

"Alright," I was trying to keep the food inside me. Distraction might work. I poked my stomach, you should be grateful you queasy gut.

Muriel sang a few lullabies in a sweet voice and her sound seemed to dance through my head. I drank the rest of the milk, hoping it would soothe my belly and curled up in the dirt to hold my sore tummy, while she wove fairy tales with her calming music.

"You sing very nicely." I told her when she was quiet.

"How old are you?" She sounded closer, but I was drowsy and didn't have the energy to see where she was.

"I don't know..." a warm embrace covered me as I fell into oblivion.

There were voices again. This time they called me by my new name and enticed me near with warm tea to soothe my belly. I was filled with heat as the tea slid through me and I felt stronger for a moment, before a chill radiated through my bones. I felt like I should run away, but a strange voice called.

"Come to me, Erik. Only I can make you stronger."

I did want to be strong, but the voice was unsettling. It rattled and hummed and I felt like it made my insides shudder. I pulled my blanket tight around me as a great beast slowly lumbered from the shadows. It looked like a bear but there were horns coming from its head, and now that I was looking at its head, it didn't look like a bear at all.

The face was more akin to a goat, and I cocked my head in curiosity. It was an animal I'd never seen before.

"You do not need that scrap of cloth." The beast spoke to me, but the lips on his huge head did not move. His voice entered my mind, dark and so deep that my teeth rattled. "I will warm you with my skin."

The goat-bear shook its massive shoulders and the thick brown fur slid from his back like a cloak. I took a step back and the beast's black liquid eyes fixed on me, shining oddly in the night. The giant hide began to float and then darted towards me, cutting the night sky like a huge, hairy bird .

"Only I can make you stronger."

I woke with a start, swatting at the heavy, gray cloak draped over me. I breathed a sigh of relief that it was not a giant hide of fur and only the cloak that Muriel had been wearing last night. I sat up warily, looking around in the light. There was a shiny red apple sitting in the grass near me and I looked frantically to see where Muriel was. I hastily pulled the hood of her cloak over my head and hid in its shadow.

She was carrying a bucket of water to a trough in the distance, singing to herself, and I thought of running off right this second with her cloak. I was fed and now had covering. Why was I sitting around watching her do chores? I should keep running. The gypsies could come looking for me. Especially since I killed that man.

Cold seeped through me as I saw the scratch marks on my arms and realized I was a murderer. I hadn't even thought of it until now. I should leave this place. I glanced at the farmhouse, searching for movement. If Muriel's father knew she had given her cloak to a murderer...

I stood shakily and had to grip the tree to stand up. My legs still burned from their sudden exercise after being in that cage for months. I sank back to the ground wishing I could be stronger.

I knew I should leave, but I was so weak. Plus I really didn't want to steal from Muriel. She had been so nice to me that I felt I owed her the same. No one had ever been so nice to me. I would say thank you as soon as she came over and then ask if she had a shirt I could have and then leave.

I waited for her to come over to where she knew I was, but she was very busy and had to milk the goats and feed the chickens and provide water to a few different areas of the farm. She disappeared into the farmhouse a few times, for meals I'm sure. I ate the apple she left for me and just sat at the base of the tree, hiding in her cloak.

As the sun set, she emerged with a bowl and another bottle of milk. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she darted out to the brush.

"Erik? Are you still here?"

"I am here." My voice echoed from the shadow of the cloak and I enjoyed the sound.

She smiled widely and set the bowl and bottle down for me. "I brought you some soup tonight. My mother makes the most wonderful soup. Please try it? I'll sit over here if you want to talk."

She curled up a short way's away from me and I picked up the soup bowl with a loud grumble from my stomach. "Thank you very much." I remembered to say and tried the soup. It was delicious. I abandoned my spoon and just slurped it from the bowl.

She laughed lightly at my messy sounds. "I told you it was good."

I finished my soup and milk and finally decided I could not stay here any longer. "I should give you your cloak back and leave your farm. Your parents will wonder..."

"Nah," she waved her hand over her shoulder. "They barely notice anything these days. I could probably run off and they wouldn't notice until tomorrow when the goats start bleating." She sighed dramatically. "Tell me, Erik. What do you dream of?"

My recent dream of a huge dark beast came to mind, but I didn't think that was what she was asking. "I just want to be left alone."

"Why? Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"Well, no." I felt bad now for openly speaking my mind.

"Then why would you want to be alone?"

"People are mean to me. That's why I want to be left alone."

"Are people mean because you are deformed?"

I shrugged and then realized she couldn't see me. "I guess so..."

"That's not very nice at all!" She seemed affronted by this and I started smiling in my shadowy hood.

"I like you."

She looked over her shoulder in surprise and then laughed and turned around. "If you are going to hide in the hood then I can turn around. I like talking with you, Erik."

"Thank you for your cloak."

"I couldn't very well let you freeze to death. What happened to your clothes?" Her head cocked to one side.

"It's very warm. Did you make it?" I avoided her question and fingered the thick fabric, knowing it was the nicest thing I'd ever worn, and hoping she would be distracted.

"Mother made it. She makes all my clothes for me, but someday I will have a tailor who makes me grand ballgowns for the stage." She was dreaming right in front of me, her eyes dancing with all her hopes. I was glad she was so easy to distract.

I sighed and leaned against the tree, wondering if I could stay here at Muriel's farm just a little longer. Was it far enough away that the gypsies would not find it? I didn't even know which way I'd run, not that it would do me any good seeing as I had no clue which way the city lay. I needed a plan.

Winter would come soon and I couldn't just live at the base of Muriel's tree, waiting for her to sneak dinner to me every night. It wasn't logical or realistic, as nice as it would be.

"Erik?" Muriel shuffled a little closer. "Where did you come from? There is no city for miles and you have no clothes and I'm guessing no food or money. How do you survive?" I fretted over what to tell Muriel. I didn't want to lie, but I didn't want to tell the whole truth either.

"Gypsies were keeping me in a cage because of my face. I ran away a few days ago. I'm not really sure how to survive now. Where is the nearest city?"

"Paris is close, but what will you do? How will you earn money for food and shelter? You won't even let me look at you, no one will hire you."

She was right, and I realized my prospects were dim. I must have stayed silent too long for her to handle because she blundered on. "I'm sorry for saying all that, Erik." She hid her face in her knees as her voice came out muffled. "Mother says I talk too much. I know I do. I'm sorry. Everything will work out. Don't you worry. Will you still talk to me about other things?" Her earnest plea drew a smile across my lips.

"I don't know very much about other things."

Her head came up and her smile was brilliant. "Well, I could do most of the talking?"

I relaxed into the tree again, glad she was so distracting. "That could work."

Muriel told me about her stern father and loving mother and her new baby brother that was stealing all the attention. I liked listening to her talk and closed my eyes as she went on about her life. I could never tell her about me. Maybe I should make something extravagant up? Maybe I could tell her I was an orphaned prince, turned away from his home, due to a slight deformity. Then I could pretend that I had loving parents too.

Muriel lapsed into silence and we sat companionably in the dark evening.

After a short pause, she asked. "Would you like to sleep in the barn tonight?"

Fear churned in my belly. It was better to stay outside, in the open, where I could run away if I had to. I shouldn't close myself into a confined space. I really did not want to be locked up again.

"It is much warmer in there then out here?" She coaxed me to accept her offer, but I was too frightened to take it. I huddled in the cloak and said nothing, hoping that silence would work again on her. "There is nothing to be afraid of, Erik."

I remained silent and she finally stood and brushed off her skirts. She began picking up the dishes. "I'm going to go inside now. I'll leave the barn door open for you, if you change your mind. Good night, Erik."

I huddled in my warm enough cloak and watched her house until sleep overcame me.

I was awoken by a rustling noise to my left and it startled me so badly that I jumped up and away. My eyes searched the brush for the source of the menacing sound. This time when I saw the quantity of brush moving as it rustled, I turned on wobbly legs and ran.

I made it past a few trees when I recalled Muriel's kind offer. 'I'll leave the barn door open.'

I picked up a stick and ran back to the farm. If the rustling noise was a predator it could eat the family's goats. How would they survive without their goats? I couldn't let that happen.

When I reached my former resting place I beat on the bushes with my stick but nothing leapt at me or ran away. I looked over at the barn and could see the door wide open.

I watched the house as I ran through the yard. The doorway to the barn was dark and I hesitated at the entrance. What was I doing?

I stepped inside and icy dread trickled down my back. Something was in here. I let my eyes adjust to the dark before I took another step. I could hear the animals snuffling in their sleep. The air was full of tiny sounds of movement but I could also hear one louder sound that didn't fit.

I pushed the hood back so it wouldn't interfere and stepped forward.

"Erik!" My name thundered through my head with annoyed forbearance. "You showed such promise."

I shook my head, wondering if I was going mad. It was a dream voice in my head but I was sure I was awake.

Before I could make any sense of the situation I was in, I was knocked off my feet onto my back. My breath left my body in fright and I watched the beast loom over me.

"You try my patience." The goat face muttered, looking angry and menacing in the dark barn. Its breath smelled rotten and I turned away. "She makes you weak." The voice growled. "Every day you become weaker when you could be so much more." I turned my head cautiously and met the black liquid eyes of my dream beast. He stared at me and I felt like he was trying to see into my head.

"Leave this place right this moment and I will perform magic for you."

"What kind of magic?" I couldn't help asking.

"I will restore part of your face."

"Part of..."

"Kill a goat for me and I will restore all of your face."

Between one shocked blink and the next, the goat-bear disappeared. I scrambled up and searched the barn with shaking limbs. There were only Muriel's goats and a large orange cat present. I sank into the hay in an empty stall and hugged my knees to my chest as the beast's words repeated themselves over and over.

My face...

Restored...

Kill the goat...

I curled on the ground and rocked myself as I hummed every tune I could think of to make the words go away. What kind of creature could make promises like that? I was dealing with something that I didn't understand, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I didn't have to understand it to test the words spoken by the beast.

If I had even part of a face it was more than I had now. I could walk anywhere, be anything...

I stood up and touched my grotesque face. I could feel the thin, wrinkly, blotchy skin of my cheeks and I carefully felt the edge of the hole that served as my nose. My fingers danced lightly over my bare skull feeling the lack of hair and regular skin, ears, lips, cheeks.

I quickly ran out of the barn, glancing towards the house for any sign of light, and then continued into the dark forest. I counted my steps and made sure my direction stayed true. I did not want to become lost.

The beast said I had to leave but he said nothing of not returning. I wanted to test how powerful this strange creature was.

When I reached step number seventy two, a searing pain shot over half my face. I cried out and slapped my hands over it to stem the burning of my skin. I fell to my knees as tears filled my eyes and rolled down my face. I could hear someone laughing but the pain grew almost unbearable and I writhed on the forest floor, my face burning with hell fire.

The pain finally subsided and I lay panting on my back. I was afraid to touch my face, afraid what I might find. How foolish of me to even listen to that beast! I probably had the face of a goat now!

I let my breath return to me and then sat up. My breathing sounded different, and I reached up slowly to touch the protrusion off my face. The nose sloped nicely, ending in two very normal little nostrils. I had to shove my fingers up inside to see if the gaping hole that used to be my nose was underneath. It all felt very real and there was no hole beneath the nose and I couldn't help the feeling of gratitude that filled me.

My fingers darted over the rest of my skull, feeling every difference. The skin over half my face felt very smooth and I could feel an eyebrow over my eye, which I'd never had before. There was even some hair springing up from my skull. My very own hair!

This was magic!

I never realized that the world held magic such as this, that magic actually existed. Could I create magic as well? I bet I could!

I stood feeling very proud of my new face. I wasn't a corpse anymore, but I wasn't exactly sure what I was now. Only part of my face was normal, the other half still melted away to nothing. People would probably still be frightened of me.

Maybe as I grew older I could learn to perform this magic on my own. Then I could fix my whole face myself and not have to kill Muriel's goats. I started back to her farm and I heard that rustling again. I ignored it as best I could and spent the rest of the night learning my new face. I wished I had a mirror. My fingers would have to do.

I was awed by how easily I was transformed. It did hurt a great deal, but the pain kept slipping from my mind as my fingertips glided down the smooth cheek. And the nose! It was a glorious thing. I had half a pair of lips too and skin over my chin. There were eyelashes sprouting from my lids and one whole ear, shaped like a shell on the side of my head.

The wonder of it kept me up all night and when Muriel came out in the morning, I ran to meet her by the barn.

"Good morning." I felt confident and strong, even though I still hid in her cloak.

"Good morning, Erik." She flashed me a huge smile. "Do you want to help me milk the goats?"

I didn't really, but I said yes anyway. She happily demonstrated how to pull just so to coax the milk out and though I found it quite fascinating, I didn't want to try it and she didn't mind. I followed her through the barn, keeping a wary eye on the dark corners. I almost felt as if I was protecting her from any remaining ill within the space.

I knew now that all of my dreams of this beast were quite real seeing as he magically replaced my corpse face with one that was half normal.

When Muriel finished, she wiped her brow and I piped up.

"Do you have a small mirror you could bring outside with you later?"

Her brow furrowed as she looked at the hood. "What for?"

"I've never actually looked at how deformed I am. Maybe I should see how bad it is." The little lie was easy to say but the knowledge that I was lying to her hurt me inside. It was not easy at all to look at her trusting face and weave a lie, but she brought me the mirror with my dinner, just as the sun was going down. I wasted a few minutes of light just staring at the piece of glass in its round metal frame where it sat in the grass. We sat in silence until Muriel leaned close and put her hand over mine.

"If you don't want to look, I can look for you?" Her eyes searched the hood for any glimpse of me within. I wanted to trust her, but I was afraid to scare her. I glanced down at her smooth warm hand over mine. At least I was easier to look at now.

"Promise me you won't be scared. It's still just me, I can hide back in the hood and we'll pretend you never looked..." her laughter cut through.

"Erik." A beautiful smile spread her lips, "There's nothing to be afraid of." My mind conjured an angry crowd of people, a huge gypsy, and a hairy magical beast, but when I was with Muriel there wasn't anything to be afraid of.

"Alright," I gathered my courage and stared down at my knees as I folded back the hood. Neither one of us moved and my courage faltered. "Please, don't be scared," I whispered.

Her fingers touched my chin to help me raise it and I looked in her eyes, expecting disdain, fear, anger, something! She looked sad and disappointed, and I wildly thought that I was not deformed enough for her liking, but she was not scared. Her eyes darted over my visage and tears formed.

"You look quite handsome to me." She finally said and I laughed out loud.

"Handsome?" I grabbed the mirror and looked within. I was slightly startled by the stranger in the reflection. The only part of me that remained the same were my mismatched eyes. Otherwise, I didn't know my own face!

I studied the smooth good side of my new face, the eyebrow and the nose. I studied the gnarled, blotchy side, my sagging eyelid and twisted lips. As the sun set and we were swathed in darkness, I put the mirror down. "Thank you for bringing it out for me," I fidgeted with the cloak, wanting to pull it back over my head, "And thank you for not being scared."

Her hand settled on my knee comfortably. "I can not lie to you, Erik. Some people will be frightened, but I am not. Some people will judge you. Some will cast stones. Some will hate you, but I never will. You can be strong, Erik. I know you have the strength inside you. Don't ever give anyone power over you."

I glanced at her pretty face and smiled tentatively. She sounded very sure and strong herself and she smiled brightly at me. "Now you will have a good night." She squeezed my knee before leaving.

I felt good. I watched her go back to the house and I was still smiling. I'd never felt so good in all my life. I sighed contentedly and settled against my tree. I would have to leave soon but one more day wouldn't hurt.

The sound of cracking branches woke me and I stood quickly as a tingle of awareness traveled through my new face. It felt like bugs crawling on my skin and I brushed at my new, smooth cheek.

"I give you this gift and you return?" The beast was angry, his eyes leapt with flame and I cowered against the tree, thinking that he looked even bigger than usual.

"You didn't say I had to leave forever!" The fire in his eyes subdued but they still watched me with malevolence.

"A gift given, can easily be taken away." Red hot burning pain clouded my vision and I fell to my knees as I felt like my face was being torn off.

I woke panting and reached up quickly to feel my face. The nose and skin were still there, and I rolled over and started to cry. Light crunching steps approached me and I sat up, quickly wiping at my face.

"Erik?" Muriel crouched beside me in her nightshirt. "I heard you cry out. I don't think Mama or Papa heard but..." she glanced back at the house and then her bright eyes came back to me. The sun was rising behind her and her yellow hair was loose around her face, casting yellow light all about us. "Are you alright?"

I struggled to keep control of myself. She will think you are a baby. "I had a bad dream," I mumbled.

Her hand settled on my head, patting me gently and so nicely, that I wanted to hug her. I'd seen other people hug before, but I had never been held myself. I just knew it would make me feel better.

"Do you have a lot of bad dreams?" she asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Come here, it's alright." She sat beside me and pulled me into her warm embrace. She held me tight, rocking gently, and I closed my eyes as emotion filled me. "I used to have bad dreams too, but Papa would always chase the monsters away for me. Would you like me to sing for you?"

I nodded silently, not wanting to speak while such a wonderful feeling flowed through me. I liked being held. I felt so safe and warm in her embrace. I could hear her clear voice echo through her chest as she sang for me. It resonated so beautifully and her arms were such a comfort around me that I was almost moved to tears. I took deep, steady breaths to control my emotions and as Muriel finished singing, I gently sat away from her.

She looked really pretty with her hair down instead of in its braids and the morning light was making her look sort of sparkly. She smiled at me and I smiled back.

"Thank you." I turned my face so she could see only the good side.

"You are so tiny, I have no idea how you've survived for so long...

"I'm strong, remember?" I gave her a cheeky grin.

"You are strong, all by yourself, without anyone's help." Her eyes were intent on mine, looking for agreement. I nodded. "I better get back inside," she stood and glanced back before leaving. She looked sad. "Will you promise to say goodbye to me?"

"Of course." I watched her go back to her home and then curled my legs up so I could rest my chin and think. It was time for me to forge off on my own, it was time to face the world. I was not as scared of the prospect with the new face I had. If I was clever, I could fashion something to cover my bad side and only let people see the good side. I would have to be very clever to find myself food and shelter before the snow started. Even Muriel had warned me that not everyone would be as kind as her.

I noticed I was wistfully watching the door for her to appear and I turned around so it was not in my line of sight. I could not depend on her forever. It was past time to leave. I didn't like to think it, but some of the things that magic beast said were true. Muriel did make me weak. She made it easy for me to not care for myself. She brought me everything I needed and smiled and made me feel good, but if I was going to take care of myself I would have to be tough and strong.

I hadn't forgotten that a man was dead because of me. I looked down at my hands and wondered how I'd ever had the strength or desire to do that. Even now I still felt weak and small. I sighed and laid my head on my knees to stare at Muriel's house.

From my hiding place in the brush, her home looked safe and inviting, glowing with warmth and light. I looked for movement in the windows but I never saw any. I sat up straight as I mulled this over. Why did her father not help her with the chores? Surely the little baby didn't need both parents hovering over it at all hours.

Just as I began to wonder about the strange stillness of Muriel's house, she emerged with her hair braided and a small parcel in her hands. She waved for me and then moved into the barn. I followed her in and she started removing her jacket.

"I know you're leaving, I can see you've made the decision. I packed you some food and..." she shrugged out of her jacket and was wearing a thick shirt over her dress. She pulled it over her head and handed it to me. "I brought you a shirt." She pulled her jacket back on with a shiver and then got to work milking the goats.

I took off her cloak and pulled on the shirt that was still warm from her body. I shivered as I realized how cold I had been for days. It was amazing that I could ignore that bone deep chill.

"Thank you, Muriel. You've been so kind to me. I do not deserve it..."

"Erik." She frowned at me over her shoulder. "Everyone deserves kindness."

"I don't." I stared down at my feet.

"Of course you do." She turned on her milking stool. "It's as basic as breathing. Love, kindness and acceptance may seem like small things in the grand scheme of the world, but," she touched her chest. "They do not feel small in here."

"I've been...a bad boy...but I will try to be good." I don't know why I felt the need to promise her this, but I did. She stood and put one gentle hand on my shoulder.

"You need to forgive yourself. The past cannot be undone. I hope you can find peace, Erik."

I thought it was a strange thing for her to wish me, but I was realizing that there were many strange things in this world. Magic and large beasts who could speak in your mind and kind girls who sparkled in the morning sunlight.

"Goodbye Muriel, thank you." I turned and started to leave but she called me back.

"Don't forget your cloak." She held it out with the package of food and a smile. "Take care of yourself, Erik. Maybe one day we'll meet again when I'm famous."

I wanted to hug her again but was afraid to just throw myself at her. She opened her arms as if reading my mind and I went willingly into her embrace. "May God guide you and keep you for all time," she murmured into the air. I let out the breath I'd been holding in my lungs, turned with confidence and left her farm.

I was expecting to walk for days and become lost in the trees but by nightfall I reached a quaint row of houses and could see more in the distance, lights gathered together. Hope churned through my stomach and I flipped the hood of my cloak over my bare skull. The sparse hair tickled my head and awareness trickled through me.

"You will never be accepted by anyone but me." The beast's voice was cold and clear. I quickly glanced around, but his voice was only in my head.

"Go away. " I said succinctly and laughter echoed behind me from the dark trees.

"I am always with you now, Erik." My face tingled and I rubbed at it.

"This is my face now! You gave it fair and square!" I shouted towards the woods and then ran the opposite direction. I skulked through the city in the dead of night, hiding in the hood of my cloak. A large building was being built and gaining entrance to the catacombs was easy enough. The lowest levels of the building didn't seem to be used much and I planned to live out the winter there while figuring out what to do with myself. My dreams of the great magically beast did not seem as tangible and though I often cried out for him to leave me alone, he did not seem as powerful as he once did. He still pestered me in my dreams, but more and more I gained the strength to ignore him.

I stole what I needed, and would always silently apologize to Muriel for stealing to survive. She was my conscience for a time and I would imagine her laughing at my worries, and then I wouldn't feel so bad about being a thief. When the winter passed I decided to stay in my underground home. It was safe and no one knew I was there. It seemed a good choice at the time but before too long I grew bored. The beast, or the devil, as I began to think of him, tormented me nightly with visions of what my life could be. Friends and comrades, girls who would laugh, just like Muriel, and maybe even touch my arm.

I wanted more than this solitary underground existence and as soon as I thought it, the beast appeared before me.

"I can give you all you desire and more."

"For a price." I was not a stupid child anymore though three years had barely passed.

"A reasonable price..."

I was wary of what he would ask for but I wanted to explore. Why should I hide away underground? Didn't I deserve to see the world like any other person. I wanted to visit the places in all those books that were my only companions over the last few years.

The devil had me. I was his servant. I roamed the world in his darkness. I did his bidding, but I also learned so many things. I learned to draw and build great magnificent structures. I learned how to control people with my voice. I had a gift for that. I learned how powerful I could be, how deadly I could be. I also learned about the true cruelty of man. It wasn't just the gypsies and my mother. It lived in everyone. I began to wonder if it was only natural to be taken in by the devil. What else was there?

I eventually came home. I was tired of walking in daylight, surrounded by dark. I missed the soothing comfortable darkness of my basements, the sound of the French accents, the smells of French pastries, and I was finally tired of listening to that evil beast. His promises were all empty. No one accepted me. I was still alone.

The building I had previously lived in was an opera house! I became very excited as I recalled the one good person from my past. Was she here already? Was she waiting for me? I watched the performance and was instantly fascinated. You could be anyone on that stage. You could act out anything. To good music, stories came alive with passion and grace. I wanted to do that. This was what my beautiful voice was for. I could hear it when I sang and I remembered the people who would pay to hear me sing when I was young.

I learned everything I could about music and singing and I perfected my techniques. I would have to be better than everyone else to ever have a chance. I was awful to look at. My musical skill would have to make up ten-fold for my ugly face. The beast laughed at my childish desires, but I practiced and practiced and waited. A few years passed me by as I waited to see Muriel on that stage. She'd wanted it so badly that I blatantly assumed she would make it one day, if only I was patient. Even to just hear a voice as beautiful as Muriel's would have given me the courage to step out of the dark. There had to be someone out there that could equal my mastery.

I grew impatient and went to fetch Muriel myself. I could show her to the stage and once she sang for the management they would hire her. I traveled into the forest surrounding Paris and started off in the correct direction. I should reach her farm by dinner time. Why did I not do this sooner? Muriel would be so happy to see me she would probably throw her arms around me.

By nightfall I came across no farm or area that I recognized. I leaned against a tree and wrapped the edges of my cloak around me. It was possible that I'd traveled in the wrong direction but I was starting to seriously wonder about that perfect meeting so many years ago when I was only an innocent child.

Muriel had guided me into my solitary life with little trouble. I remembered her fondly as being perfect. Was she so perfect because of an influence I'd never given much thought? I knew evil lived and breathed but true good? God? Why would he give me an angel even for two minutes?

The whole way home I felt like something was watching me, weighing me.

Why would an angel be so nice to me when she had to know I was a murderer? She even hugged me. I hid in my underground cave and contemplated Muriel's existence. It suddenly was so obvious to me that I felt stupid. How did I believe in only the dark side for so long? Especially when it was Muriel that I thought of with fondness. I sometimes wished that I'd never accepted this face and lived the way I was born.

I buried myself back into the music and religion. I read every version of the bible trying to glean more information about heavenly experience. I liked to think that perhaps God saw something worth saving in me, so dispatched his angel. Now every bit of music I wrote was for my angel Muriel. If she could never grace a stage then maybe someday my music would grace it in her honor. Perhaps if I wrote the most beautiful music ever heard, God would forgive me for falling in with the devil. A few more years spiraled away from me. I had to be in my fourth decade when it finally happened.

I heard an angel's voice singing. I scrambled to my high vantage point to get a better look at the angel. Could it be Muriel? Was her dream finally coming true?

The girl singing was not Muriel but her voice was a sweet perfect copy of the voice that haunted my dreams. It rang through my head with angelic perfection. I stared at the girl. She could be pretty, but she currently looked awful. Red puffy eyes, wild curly hair, rail thin, she looked like a frightened squirrel.

But her voice...

I closed my eyes to better appreciate the beauty of her ethereal gift. The desire to lay my head on this tiny girl's chest and listen to her sing was very strong. Maybe she would hold me too? She had Muriel's voice, an angel's voice, if she was as angel herself then she must accept me!

"No one will ever accept you."

I swatted the beast's voice from my ear like swatting at a fly. "I could make her accept you...for a price. I can even make her love you." Ice traveled through my veins.

"Stay away from her." I growled and that annoying laughter echoed through my head.

I found where the angel's room was in the opera house and began to follow her. I told myself that it was to make sure she was safe from the beast, but I knew it was not the only reason. I discovered her name, Christine. Not as musical as Muriel but beautiful none the less. It was only fitting for angels to have beautiful names.

I became obsessed with squirrely Christine. She was so precious and sweet, kind to everyone around her, quiet and contemplative, but she was so sad all the time. Her father had recently passed and she spent many nights crying. I wanted to make her smile and laugh like Muriel once did, so carefree and happy, but I did not know how I ever could manufacture happiness in one of God's forgotten angels.

I enjoyed when the other girls were being silly because Christine would often smile in her quiet way. Her face became achingly familiar to me. I could see every nuance of her mood and almost read her thoughts from her expressive face. I felt like I knew her deeply, like we'd met in a previous life that we couldn't recall. I was insanely possessive over her and would swoop in and scare away the men who showed too much interest.

Christine was meant to be worshiped, not ogled and used. It was crazy for me to put my neck out for her seeing as I'd never spoken a word to her. It didn't help these confusing feelings that whenever she sang I felt like I was being embraced by sound.

One night I was watching her sleep from a small hole I'd made in her ceiling. She rolled over and her eyes were open. She wasn't sleeping at all. She sighed and flopped over, sniffing loudly, and I thought she was going to start crying.

"Will you never speak, Angel?" She whispered in her heartbreaking way. "I feel you with me and yet you never speak. Am I not worthy of your attention?" She searched the roof of her room as if looking for an ethereal being and my mind began whirling.

Who was she speaking to? Did she know I was here? Was she not an angel herself?

I felt bewildered until I realized that I had an opportunity to befriend my little squirrel. I could be an angel. I could be her angel! I'd actually met one, so I knew how to act.

"You are worthy. It is I who is not." Although my angel act sounded much more ominous then Muriel's gentle guidance.

Her mouth dropped open as she went white, sat up in bed and gathered the blankets to her chest. "You...you...Angel?"

"Yes, Christine?"

"You really are there." She scrambled to her knees as her eyes searched her room. "I've felt you for weeks, since I first came to the opera, I thought I was crazy. Why would you...wait, how can you not be worthy? You're an Angel!" She was the happiest I'd ever seen her. Radiance beamed from within her and I found, shockingly, I could make her smile quite easily.

"I apologize for stalking you in this manner. I was not aware you would feel my presence." That in itself was curious, but I didn't expect her to have any insight.

"I was expecting you. You are the Angel of music?"

One angel should be as good as another, and I was certainly well versed in music. "Yes."

She was grinning from ear to ear and my little frazzled squirrel was the most beautiful I had ever seen her. The moment passed quickly as her brow began to furrow. "Why would you be unworthy? Have you fallen from grace? How else could you be unworthy? Why did you never speak to me? Have you been following me since I arrived?"

So many questions!

"I feel unworthy of your attention."

She laughed. "How is that even possible? I am just a mortal. You are an Angel!"

I allowed myself a smile at her innocent trusting perspective and slid the mask from my face as I made up my mind. I was jaded enough, due to the devil's influence, to take what I wanted when I saw it. All this feeling for her had to mean something. If I was a little creative I could befriend my pretty squirrel. Life is too short and I've wasted so many years wandering in darkness...if this angel was forgotten here, I could steal her for my own...

"My voice is so exquisite that my face has been made to repel people." It sounded stupid, so I moved on. "More important is, I was chosen by the lord, for you. If you can withstand my accursed ugliness then I will be your angel forever."

"Yes, Angel." She nodded seriously. "I have waited for you for so long... I am so glad you've come." Her eyes filled with tears and she began to sob into her hands.

I panicked for two seconds and then tried to think what Muriel would have done if I'd broken down weeping. I scurried from my hiding place and slid to Christine's door. I paused with my hand on her doorknob to reassess what I was contemplating and then I let myself in.

She stared at my hooded figure as I stared at the tears, forgotten on her face. "You are very tall..."

"Yes."

"I didn't imagine you in black clothing."

"A shining white robe stands out too much. I am made to blend in, so you will never be without your angel."

"Like a guardian angel?"

"Yes."

"But you will still teach me music?"

"Yes."

"And you came in my door?"

"Yes."

"You look very...human." She sounded disappointed but not scared.

"Yes."

"I'm confused, are you not an angel then?"

I laughed lightly. "I know this is strange for you, but I myself am not even sure why I'm here."

"Did God send you to me?"

"Yes."

"Without even telling you why?"

"Yes."

A smile curled her lips. "You say yes a lot."

"Your servant, mademoiselle." I bowed neatly.

"Will you take off your hood?"

"I will in a moment. I do not want to frighten you."

"But your face won't..."

"It is made to frighten, otherwise every mortal would fall at my feet in worship of my voice." It felt awful to weave this fantasy but also empowering. She believed everything I said and my skilled voice was nice. I was not embellishing. But I was as bad as the beast, lying to this sweet creature...

She cocked her head to one side and appeared to be thinking. "Your voice is really pretty."

"Thank you, Christine." I liked talking to her even more than following her and I hoped she would befriend me.

"Five minutes ago I was thinking I must be insane to talk to the air around me and now you are here. It's all a little sureal. Would you have kept hiding from me if I never spoke?"

I lowered my head knowing I could have remained in the shadows forever. I was made of shadows, it was easier in the darkness alone. Now her and I would have to traverse the difficult roads of knowledge.

"Do you have a name or do I call you Angel?"

"Erik."

She slid off the bed and stood hesitantly. "Hello, Erik. Hello, my angel."

"How did you know to expect me?" I was curious.

She grinned. "Papa told me he would send you to me once he reached heaven." Her unafraid reaction to me was suddenly clearer and I silently thanked her delusional Papa for his unconscious guidance in building my lie.

"Ah, this makes more sense then."

"Does it?" She moved a tiny bit closer taking me in from head to toe.

"I do not usually take human form, since my form is so distasteful, but your father must have asked specifically for it."

She swallowed hard and her eyes conveyed her concern. "Am I allowed to touch you?"

I swallowed hard myself. "If you wish..."

Like a slow exquisite dance, her hand folded over mine where it hung at my side and she held up our intertwined fingers so we could both see them. She reached for the other one and both our hands slid together. A quiet sigh went out of her.

"I'm not alone anymore?" It was a sweet trembling question on the air before her body slid towards mine and melted against me in submission. I hesitated to hold her, having only experienced it those two times with Muriel long ago, I didn't know how to offer comfort with such a gesture, and I was also suffering some sort of attack on my senses. She pulled away.

"Forgive me." She whispered, tears forming. "I am too forward...I shouldn't expect..."

I regained my senses. "Forgive me for not holding you. I didn't realize a human's touch could feel so...divine."

I succeeded in making her smile again before she bowed her head bashfully. "My touch is not divine."

"I found it to be quite divine. Would you touch me again?" I held out my hand, awed by my own boldness. She trailed her fingertips down the back of my bony hand and fire raced up my arm.

Yes. This girl was special. Angel or not, she gazed at me as if I was a holy miracle.

"Will you show me your face now?" Our hands were somehow once more laced together.

"Promise me you will not be frightened. It is still just me. I am still your angel."

She looked apprehensive but she nodded bravely. I stared into her hopeful pretty face and couldn't do it. The beast was right. No one would ever accept me. No one ever had. If she wasn't an angel, then she may not accept me as Muriel did.

"It's too terrible for you to see. Please just let me hide from you until we are better acquainted."

"Please my angel." She pleaded reaching for my hood and I grabbed her wrist.

"I am not embellishing." I growled from the dark of the hood, but her fingers slipped over mine, seeming to caress and calm in one gentle touch.

"Erik? My papa told me to expect you. He told me all about you. How God created you, about your genius with music, your beautiful songs, that you would guard and guide me and help me become the star of this opera house. You could be a disembodied head and I would sit and listen to you speak."

I was a little confused from her quick jumble of information. "Disembodied head?"

"I tried to imagine all the ways an angel could come to me." She shrugged lightly. "I never imagined you...would be real...be tangible..." She trailed off as she gazed at my dark hood.

Awareness tingled through me, but instead of it traveling through my evil face, it traveled down my neck to my heart. Her gaze warmed me and I felt hope churn within me. It had been a long time since I'd felt hope like this. Slowly I released her and folded back my hood being sure to show her the good side first. I let her get a good look and then met her eyes. She didn't look frightened yet but as I turned, her radiant gaze widened. Her breathing halted and skipped and a tiny sound left her mouth as she reached up with her dainty hand to touch my mangled cheek. Her warm soft fingers sent spirals of feeling into my chest and I thought she would cry with such a sad look on her face, but instead she spoke softly.

"You look quite handsome to me."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood as Christine spoke words from my past.

"Handsome?" I repeated my line warily, while a smile played over her lips.

"Some people may be frightened, but I am not." She was serene and sweet and accepting and I felt the beginnings of joy radiate from my chest through to my limbs. The beast was cursing in my head. He tried to weave me lies, but his voice was fading quickly, spiraling down.

"May I hold you properly now?" I asked softly, smiling carefully at my angel.

Christine opened her arms and I stepped into the light.


End file.
